


It's a Wonderful Cookie

by FeckedSpectrum



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, school bake sale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8447746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeckedSpectrum/pseuds/FeckedSpectrum
Summary: Christmas AU where everyone makes cookies and no one is really too sad.





	

They were making cookies.

The kitchen was crowded, there were cups with various liquids scattered around the available surfaces, only outnumbered by discarded lumps of food such as egg shells and mounds of flour. Pans were balanced precariously at best, greased and pock marked with balls of dough that may one day be made into cookies. By the state of the oven, it seemed like that day would be very far into the future.

Lucifer’s oven was stainless steel and ‘energy efficient.’ Like most ‘energy efficient’ products, the difference between itself and more ‘earth-polluting, baby seal munching’ appliances was that this oven was smaller. Despite this obstacle, four pans were placed on the two available racks, though the bottom-left pan was in fact a pizza pan and overlapped its partner ever so slightly. Meg called her claim to the cookies that would no-doubt be ruined by burning or undercooking. Lisa tried not to read into that claim, tucking a hand into Meg’s back pocket and placing a kiss to her cheek, which Ben ignored as he had entered the stage in child development at which public affection was as disgusting as hag fish slime, yet hag fish were the coolest things in all creation.

Balthazar was forced to be slightly responsible for once and keep Gabriel from eating the various candies that were meant to be put into the cookies. The peppermints and hard candy that were meant for a strange recipe that Anna had brought disappeared entirely, but the more practical sweets were saved. Ruby had stolen a kiss before leaving in pursuit of a store that would have more candies so that the recipe may one day be fulfilled. With the state of the oven, that seemed even farther into the future than anyone cared to consider.

The children and most of the other humans were in the living room with card tables, plates of cookies, and ungodly amounts of icing. Castiel was there as well, which spoke volumes as to how highly he was regarded by the Winchesters. Dean was attempting to convey the simplistic design and innocent nature of a star to Castiel, who was clueless at best and suspicious at worst. Adam was concentrating very hard on creating a scarf for his snowman cookie. Claire and Krissy wrote holiday well-wishes in cutesy-cursive, with astonishing artistic talent. Ben and Sam were busy creating a stick-figure war that had played out bloodily on at least 7 baked goods. Jo had abandoned her snowflake designs to keep Ash from misusing the green icing to create the visage of a marijuana leaf.

Rachel and Raphael were wrapping plates that were sure to be judiciously equivalent. Crowley and Bobby were arguing as to what an appropriate price for each plate should be, with Crowley occasionally slipping out of United States currency. (“Do you know how old the scotch I used for the cupcakes was? Older than you! It’s worth at least one banker’s soul!”)

Michael was standing in the hallway, watching everything. The chaos, the affection, the innocence, the sheer warmth that Ben and Claire’s school bake sale had brought to this ranch house was stifling.

The archangel retreated to the front patio, the chill of early December caressing his skin refreshingly. The night was alight with bright burning stars, the crispness of it mixing with the flowery scent of the garden and the smell of cookies from the inside. Most of this delightful aroma was obscured by the smell of menthol and tobacco.

Michael turned to see Lucifer leaning against the side of the house, between the two windows that overlooked the sink and counter. His posture was loose, too loose to be content. He only tried to look so human when something was troubling him.

The elder didn’t have to ask. “It’s too crowded sometimes,” Lucifer whispered, like a confession of iron bars and old wounds. “I’m glad they’re here. I’m glad that this,” the ashes fall from his fingers as he gestures to the many wild acres they own. “Turned out the way it did.”

Michael moves closer, but not too close. Lucifer is the one who drops his and Nick’s addiction and pulls him by the jacket until they’re flush. Michael frames his younger brother’s face with his hands. “So am I,” he whispers, kissing, licking menthol from the Morningstar’s lips. It’s desperate at first, trying to soothe what is incorporeal, and for a being that is made of near-incorporeal things, his failure at this stings harshly. Lucifer soothes him back, makes the kiss lazy, a broken press of lips to lips and cheek and temple. Michael dips to Lucifer’s jawline and sucks with teeth, with intent to bruise and his brother cannot protest, holding a groan to press their hips closer only to make his efforts worse.

A flash of headlights is too little warning before the dusty red pinto honks twice, followed by Ruby’s cat call. The two most powerful archangels in all of creation duck their heads unceremoniously, Lucifer hiding behind Michael and Michael attempting to burrow into Lucifer’s oversized jacket. “I’ll smite her one day,” Lucifer hisses, too close to lighthearted to mean it.

“She makes Anna happy,” Michael affirms, as if he has chanted those very words very often in the past few months.

Ruby is docile but for a giggle and an amused look as she walks past and enters the house with arms laden with goodies.

Lucifer captures his brother’s lips again once she leaves. “You make me happy.”

Michael couldn’t stop the grin from sliding up his face even if he wanted to, and he feels stupid for how easy this entire mess is. He takes his brother’s hand, a hand that was made for his, and they brave the warm and crowded kitchen.

The cookies underneath the pizza pan turned out just fine.


End file.
